Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.

Friday, March 3, 2017

Left of West and Coming in a Hurry

No, today's title isn't a reference to my social habits during my wild and wanton youth, but thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt, Thomas. I mumble and jumble all that I understand of the lyrics to that REM song to be when I'm confronted by confusion and consternation and, in the case of this news tidbit datelined Palm Coast, Florida, topped off with a side order of Do-si-dos and Tagalongs.

All of that for Girl Scout cookies.
I shudder to think about what they would do for a Klondike Bar.
-bill kenny

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About Me

I am Mrs. Kenny's oldest son. I used to say 'favorite' but Mom requested I stop because of liability concerns in connection with truth in advertising laws.

You'd think in six decades of life here on the Big Blue Marble I could easily type 1200 characters about myself but no joy! Pathetic, right? Let me note, together with the love of my life, that I live in The Rose of New England, Norwich, Connecticut, where I am tolerated (I suspect) because there's no consensus yet on where to hide the body when push finally comes to shove.